Just Interpretation
by Esther-Channah
Summary: If heroes don't kill, then how can they justify turning over criminals to face the death penalty? Cassandra Cain doesn't understand.


Prompt: Hero Code/Creed

Context: Batgirl #19—"Nobody… Dies… Tonight"

Disclaimer: The views espoused by the characters do not necessarily reflect my own. Characters and locales belong to DC.

Thanks to Kathy for the beta!

**Just Interpretation**

When she got back to her cave, he was waiting for her. By then, her anguish had coalesced and come to resemble a heavy stone weighing on her heart. She noted his presence in passing and went directly to the large cylindrical punching bag that hung farthest from the entrance. Funny. She'd never noticed before that he'd placed two in the cave, diagonally opposite each other. Now, she wondered about it. Was this how Batman tried to… to—she knew the word—_decorate_?

She threw a left jab at the bag, and then followed with a right hook. Left, right, left, right, she was fully into the rhythm and beginning to relax before he finally spoke.

"Batgirl."

She didn't reply, though she _did_ increase the intensity of her blows.

"Batgirl."

Nobody could read people better than she could. She understood this. However, she hadn't believed that Batman was _this_ poor at it. Well, if he needed words to understand, then… "Go."

Silence. But without turning around, she knew that he hadn't obeyed. With a mental sigh, she turned to face him. "What?"

He started to say something, but caught himself. He drew a deep breath, tried again, and stopped.

She cocked her head quizzically at him.

He took another breath. "About tonight," he said finally. "Are you… alright?"

She would be if he'd leave her alone. "No," she said finally. "They killed him. And I let them."

He nodded. "I know."

"I wanted to stop them," she said hastily. "But I… there was a woman. She said he… he killed her baby. And he had to die. And even if he changed… if he was sorry… her baby was still dead." She looked away. "I failed. I let him die. I killed." Her hands were shaking. Batman didn't kill. He'd accepted her because he thought she didn't either. She looked away. "I'll leave. Tomorrow, okay?"

She flinched when his hand came down gently on her shoulder.

"You don't have to do that," he said.

She spun around. "But I killed! I…"

"Allowed the state to carry out the execution of a convicted felon," Batman cut her off. He shook his head. "You didn't murder him."

"I let him die." She took a step backwards. "I could have saved his life and I didn't. I…" She struggled to find the words. "He killed. It was wrong. But how is it… okay… that I let someone else kill him? Three nights ago. You remember—man in car shot someone on street. You said he was… was… yak…"

"Yakuza," Batman nodded. "A member of a Japanese organized crime family."

She nodded. "We still chased man in car… because he killed. Even if he killed a criminal, he still… killed. So why is it okay if… if the state kills?"

Batman hesitated. "The state has that right. We as individuals don't." He waited for her to meet his eyes. "If he had been shot by a police officer while resisting arrest, we wouldn't have intervened either." His lips twitched. "Incidentally, you're far from the only person opposed to the death penalty. As long as it remains on the books in this state, though, you need to understand that sometimes, when we bring criminals to justice, we _do _bring them to execution."

"And you're… okay to do that?"

She saw him flinch.

"If you don't kill but you let someone else… then how is it not the same?"

Batman hesitated. "I don't have a simple answer for you. But, when we go out at night, sometimes circumstances require that we make decisions in a split second. A decision on whether to take a life isn't something that should ever be made that quickly. So, we stop the perpetrators turn them over to the legal system, and let the courts make that call." He looked down. "They don't always decide the way I would prefer, but determining the sentence is their function—not yours and not mine." His shoulders slumped. "Or maybe," he admitted, sounding suddenly weary, "you're right, and it _is_ the same. Sometimes I wonder." He met her eyes again. "I wonder the same thing when I save a person's life—only to find out later that they've gone on to kill again. It cuts both ways, Batgirl."

She nodded. "I just wanted," she said softly, "just for tonight, for nobody to die."

This time, she didn't tense when he touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

Barbara might have said that to her in order to try to make her relax. Batman, she could see, meant it. The weight over her heart lifted as she felt her tension drain away. "Me too."

Without another word, she turned back to the punching bag and calmly resumed her pummeling. Left, left, right. Left, left, right. The blows fell steadily, connecting as they were supposed to. She gave herself over to the rhythm, gratified that at least one part of her world still made as much sense now as it had yesterday.


End file.
